There's Something About TJ
by NotAContrivance
Summary: Everybody loves T.J. But some love him more than others. And these three girls, well, they're no pining, whining, shrinking violets. They know what they want, and by Bob, one of them's going to get it... er, him.
1. Prologue: Three Girls, One Boy

I know what you're thinking. What's this? Another one? Man, is this girl ambitious! Anyways, updates on this fic might not be as frequent as on Once Burned, Twice Scarred, but hey, I was looking around on my computer, found this fic, finished the fourth chapter and then the fifth, and decided, what the hey, I'm in a posting mood.

So you get this. Which has been on my computer for a while…

Anyways, this is the beginning, which is why it's so short.

I don't own Recess, T.J., or Gordie. They belong to Joe Ansolanabehere (Hope I spelled his last name right), and Paul Something-Or-Other…

Everybody loved T.J. Detweiler.

Well, except Gordie.

But some loved him more than others.

Much, much more.

But only in secret.

For they were fearful, very fearful.

They were afraid of ridicule, of what people would think, of ruining friendships, and thousands of other little things.

So these three kept their love hidden away.

Or, at least, they _thought_ they did.

- Loren ;

Hmm, interesting, isn't it? Any guesses on who the three are? Eh, well, you'll kind of find out in the next chapter. Anyways, yeah.

So, review!


	2. If Only In Her Dreams

This is written kinda weird. With all of Hemingway's brevity and Rand's description… No, just kidding, I suck compared to greats like them... Seriously, I'm not fit to scrape the gum off their old shoes... But it is rather vague and brief, but also heavy on the description.Also note that this was originally a part of the upcoming chapter, but I separated the two because I didn't think it fit.

Anyways, I don't own Recess.

There, said all I need to say…

Except… REVIEW! Lol… Okay, I'm done, I promise.

"Let's just get this over with, Teej."

A voice, annoyed and impatient, snapped. Arms crossed over chest, scowl radiating, eyes narrowed, hands clenching into fists. Very visible disapproval.

"Okay."

Another voice. Nervous, shaky, worried, sounding somewhat afraid. Hands fidgeting, smoothing down clothes, licking lips.

Casting worried glances out towards the crowd. The crowd who watched with a sense of eerie fascination at the scene before them; the scene which would symbolize the ending of their childhood. They looked hard at the two before them, judging them, smirking and sneering and gaping at them, whispering. But mostly, they were just staring.

A sigh. Shortly followed by another.

A push.

Hesitant steps forward.

A step closer.

Another step.

The sound of a boot scraping against the pavement.

Closer.

Closer and closer.

Closer, and closer, and closer still.

A foot.

An inch.

Their faces so close together. Gazes locked, knowing what they, together, must do.

A stifled sigh.

Breath hot on their faces, nervous.

So nervous.

Faces edged closer, lips puckering in anticipation.

Less than an inch in-between their faces.

The crowd held its breath.

Their lips touched, eyes closed upon contact.

They couldn't bear to look at each other.

The crowd stared, wide-eyed, mouths gaping open, but they no longer cared.

For they were in a world all their own, and no one else even existed.

The sun was shining. The sky was as blue as his eyes, with not a cloud in sight. The grass was long and far greener than her eyes, dotted with bright, beautifully blossoming wildflowers. The birds sung, there were cute woodland creatures everywhere, and everything seemed so pretty and alive.

But all good things must come to an end.

She could feel it in her bones, the fact that the end was approaching. Trying her hardest, she attempted to hold on to the wonderful feeling. She wished it would never end.

But she felt the cruel pull of reality on her and braced herself for the return to real life.

And then… I woke up.

- Loren ;

Now which Recess character has green eyes?

Oh, trick question, we don't know!

But who is the Mystery Girl?

Well, I think that's fairly obvious, but that doesn't mean much in relation with the fic.

By the way, in case I didn't mention this in the next chapter, this is set when The Gang's all in fifth grade.

Actually, the Mystery Girl is really the one who's most behind in the "Battle for T.J.'s Heart". But shh… Don't tell her that…

Oh, review please! Gracias por su tiempo!


	3. Spinelli: Not Your Typical Nightlife

Okay, this chapter is a really, really long chapter… It's like seven-eight pages. The dream sequence from the past chapter was actually originally part of this chapter. And, dog biscuit( ), you guessed right… It was supposed to be a description of what happened in the episode where T.J. and Spinelli kissed, The Experiment. _Boys kissin' girls… Girls kissin' boys… And you'll like it! _

Lol, sorry, I couldn't resist…

I don't own Recess or anything associated with it. In the words of Ashley A.: Like, duh!

Note: Pay attention to what Spinelli says she'll do if a boy tries to kiss her.

"AHHHHHH!" I screamed.

Not that dream again. I thought I'd stopped having it when I had that-that… _thing _for Johnny V.

So why in the heck did it come back?

I don't need to remember it. It was disgusting. T.J.'s really lucky I didn't kill him afterwards, really. It's a good thing that he's my best friend in the world, because if he wasn't… Well, yeah, he'd be dead. Seriously.

On second thought, the next guy who tries to pull something like that on me is dead.

First, I'll punch him in the nose. And then I'll spin around, elbow him in the chest, and stomp down hard on both his feet. After that, I'll turn around again, knee him in the groin, and push him to the ground. Then, when I have him in a headlock, I'll force him to apologize and never try and do something like that ever again. Depending on whether he agrees or not, I'll decide if I ought to kill him.

Yeah, that's good. That's how it'll work. Yeah.

Hey, who's coming towards my room? This stupid house is so old and creaky that you can hear everything, and I can hear someone, no, there's got to be more than one of them… Anyways, they're coming towards my room.

I have to be ready for them. Now, darn it, where did I put my bat?

Hmm.

Maybe it's under my bed.

Let's check…

AHA! Found it! Score!

Okay, they're getting closer. I've got to be there when they try and break in.

They're not taking ME alive!

Uh, wait… Does that mean that they can take me when I'm dead?

Well, you know what; I'm just not going to die that way.

I don't want some weirdoes doing creepy stuff to my body, like taking it places, after I'm dead.

Okay, so no dying.

And that's good because I'm standing in front of the door with the bat, ready.

So come and get me, scumbags! I'm ready, you hear! Yeah, me!

So prepare to be beaten down!

Okay, the door's opening. I can see someone. I have to swing now, while I've got the element of surprise.

Suh-wing!

Ooh, I think I hit him! I hit both of them! And pretty hard too because my hands hurt. Right in the stomach.

"OW!"

"JEEZ! Ash, what the h… I mean, uh, what the HECK are you doing?"

Hey, wait, that's not a robber. That's my brother!

"Hehe. Oops. Sorry, Vitto. I thought you were a robber!" I mumble, embarrassed.

Ugh, I better not be blushing again. I hate blushing. But my face _does_ feel hot…

But Vitto's standing up all the way now. That's good. He groans weakly, smiling a little. How in the heck is he smiling? I just nailed him. Darn.

Guess my beatings aren't all that effective. Man, this whomps.

"Oh, no, Ash, that's Joey here. _He's_ the robber," Vitto retorts, breathless.

Wait, did he just say that Joey's _here_? How did he get out of prison? Doesn't he have like a million years left on his sentence? I mean, he didn't get busted for petty theft. He got busted for robbing the National Mint. He shouldn't even be up for parole until I'm like 30.

"Joey's here? Where?" I ask frantically.

A groan sounds from the floor. Holy cow, it's Joey!

"Man, kiddo, that's some case of dangerous lumber you got there," Joey moans.

I shoot Vitto a puzzled look. He had a pained expression on his face, probably because I'd just thumped him one in the stomach.

"See, Joey got out early for good behavior, and because, you know, whenever he steals something, he mostly gives it back after a day anyways. We wanted to show you in the morning because we got home a little while ago and you were asleep. But then we heard you screaming, and, well, came running," Vitto explains, rubbing his stomach.

Since when do people care if I have nightmares? I can trash my room and no one will even notice.

I beam at Vitto, turning to Joey, who's just stood up, and tackling him with a bear hug. He winces a little, but smiles, which is weird, because he's in pain.

"Carpet. Man, I missed this stuff. And Becky! Missed her too. She still live next door, Ash?" Joey mutters dreamily.

He is so weird. Wait, why's Vitto looking at me so weirdly? It's like he's expecting. What's he expecting, anyways?

"WHAT?" I snap.

Vitto rolls his eyes.

"Becky. Do you know if she still lives next door? I mean, you're friends with her little brother, uh, what's-his-face, um… D.J., Right?" Vitto questions.

Did he just call T.J. D.J.? Where did he get the D from? Seriously? I mean, if Joe's like all in love with her and all, and him and T.J.'s big brother used to be buds, then why doesn't he know his name? Besides, the Detweilers are our neighbors. Our next-door-neighbors.

Sheesh.

"It's T.J.!"

Why are they looking at me so weird? Joey's smirking. What'd I say? Do I have something on my face?

Nah, it can't be the last one because they would've mocked me before.

Okay, why is Vitto popping his knuckles? Who's he going to beat up? I want a piece of that action too! I never get to spend any time with my brother, anyways.

"Hey! I want a piece of that too!" I shout.

Vitto blinks at me, confused.

"A piece of _what_?" He mutters, puzzled.

Isn't it obvious? Sheesh, my brother's a moron.

"A piece of whoever you're going to beat up, you maroon!" I retort, rolling my eyes.

Vitto smirks at Joey, who is shaking silently with laughter. What on Earth is so funny?

Sheesh! I have a weird family. Mega weird.

"Somehow, Ash, I _really_ don't think you'd be interested," Vitto mumbles.

Why? Is he up to something? What's he trying to do?

Oh, great, now Joey's laughing hysterically.

I don't like it when people laugh at me.

And yet, they're so ready to laugh at me.

Idiots.

Well, at least Joey will get what's coming to him.

"OW! What was **that** for!" Joey screeches.

Ah, nothing like the sound of a boy screaming to wake you up in the morning.

Okay, whatever, so I was already up.

I shoot him a dark glare as he remains keeled over, clutching his crotch.

That was a good kick. I ought to be in karate or something.

Kick-boxing maybe.

"Joe, I want to know what the heck is so funny!" I hiss, furious.

He looks away from Vitto, who frowns at him. I wonder why. What's Joey going to say?

"What Vitto here means, Ashley dearest, is that he doesn't think you'd want to join in because you'd be beating up your _little_ boyfriend," Joey grins.

Wait a second… _Boyfriend_?

When did I get a _boyfriend_? I mean, I have boys that are friends, but not a boyfriend.

Who _is_ this boyfriend they think I have?

"Excuse me, _boyfriend_?" I ask, shocked.

Okay, if I'm going to beat up a guy who tries to kiss me, then I sure as heck will beat up a guy who tries to get with me. Sheesh, when did I become an _Ashley_?

**Oh**, _right_.

Hey, where's Vitto? He's gone!

Was Joey stalling for him? Oh, great. You know, I ought to feel bad about this.

But I'm not going to because I've already hit Joey twice today.

Ah, a sucker punch to his already-bruised gut. That's classic.

"Who does he think my "_boyfriend_" is, Joey?" I growl out.

Joey moans, but my icy grip on his arm makes him tell me the truth. Violence always works.

"Okay, okay, fine! He thinks your boyfriend is that T.J. kid," Joey wheezes.

I smile at him, letting go of him.

"Joey, you get some rest," I whisper, "I have to stop a murder!"

Hmm, I could go out the front door, but that could wake up my parents and it would take way too long. My room! That's it!

I dash back inside, hastily undoing the sash and shoving it up. Okay, my head's out, and the rest of me will fit, but how am I going to make sure I don't kill myself getting over there?

And is T.J.'s window even open?

Okay, it is! That's good.

But how do I get there?

Okay, I look down. Nothing but dirt and grass and a fence. Let's look up. Hmm, nothing much… Except a gutter!

That's perfect! And there's one on T.J.'s house too!

Now how do I do this? Hmm, maybe if I reach my hands up and grab the pipe. Okay, now I need to move my torso out.

Good, now get my feet on the ledge.

Phew. I haven't killed myself yet.

Now, how to get across? Let's see, not many options. I'm going to have to swing across, I guess.

I push off the wall, swinging my feet back and forth. Finally, I'm at a high point.

Ugh, now I've got to let go.

Okay, done.

Wait; remind me why I'm doing this again…

Oh, yeah, I've got to save T.J. from the wrath of my older brother.

I mean, how could I even forget?

Why else would I do something insane?

Whoa, why did I just flip in mid-air? That's not good, I'm no gymnast. But, hey, at least I'm fully upright.

I can see the window. I'm not going to make it.

Come on, come on! I've got to jump now. I just hope it'll be enough.

And it is! I've got hold of the pipe, but I just ran into the house, which is painful. And, somehow, I don't think this thing will hold my weight for very long, so I'd better get my feet on that ledge and fast.

Phew. Okay, done with that, but now I have to get inside. Maybe if I move my hands to the window ledge. Ouch, this hurts!

Now, I'm going to swing into it. Whoa, I made it, even though I'm tripping. Well, at least I landed on something soft. Wait, okay, something's wrong!

I just felt a hand on my face! AHHH! Okay, come on, Spinelli, don't panic. Just get off of it.

But unfortunately, I don't know what IT is, and I can't see **anything** in this darkness.

"Spinelli, you know, if you wanted to see me, you could've just started screaming out your window like a normal person."

A joke. A snicker.

Uh oh. T.J. I landed on top of T.J. in his bed. I have weird luck. Uh… Okay?

I'm about to apologize, but suddenly, the door opens and light floods into the room. So, naturally, I try and scramble off T.J., but somehow, I only wind up falling onto him more. This day is annoying. I am going to be SO whomping tired at school.

"Oh, so he's not your boyfriend, eh, Sis?"

"This whomps."

T.J. groans.

Uh oh. That's Vitto. And he's angry. I have to make sure that he doesn't kill T.J., who is looking at me really weird.

I've got to do something and I've got to do something fast. But what am I supposed to do? I'm stuck in between a lot of crap and a barrel of elephant dung right now.

Well, let's think, okay, Spinelli?

Okay, except I can't think. This sucks.

I have three options. One, I pretend that T.J. is my boyfriend. Two, I pretend he's into someone else or has another girlfriend, or that he digs guys. Three, I pretend to be absolutely repulsed by T.J. and hate him.

They're all pretty risky. If I pretend that T.J.'s my boyfriend, that's undue embarrassment and awkwardness ahead. If I pretend that he likes guys, well, that one's obvious. So I've got to do the last one… But how am I supposed to explain being practically on top of him?

Honesty maybe?

And, you know, getting off of him might help.

Or maybe I should just stay here in case Vitto tries to take a swing at him. Yeah, I should.

"Look, Vitto, he's not my boyfriend. So don't kill him. For cripes' sake, I'm in fifth grade!" I hiss.

Vitto rolls his eyes.

"If he isn't, then why are you on top of him, huh?" He interrogates.

Sheesh. Vitto is psychotic, I swear.

T.J. stupidly tries to sit up.

"You know what, V; can I call you that, by the way, V? Anyways, that's a really good question and I'm not just saying that, man."

He is so sucking up. Seriously. It's pathetic, so I elbowed him.

"Stop sucking up," I whisper, turning then to face Vitto again.

Isn't it obvious what I'm doing?

"Well, you moron, I'm protecting him from _you_, you 'HOLE!" I bite back.

Vitto gapes, then smirks.

"Is **that** what you kids call it nowadays?"

That is not funny. Ugh, I have to get him and myself out of here.

"Look, Vitto, I saw Joey. He said he was going out to find, oh, what's the name of that girl you've got a thing for again? Anyways, you want him to steal your girlfriend?" I lie.

I mean, what do I care? I just have to get him out of here before someone gets hurt. Vitto's eyes widen a little, but he **still** won't LEAVE, darn it!

I can tell that my eyes are glittering dangerously.

"Vit, just leave before I do something desperate, okay?" I nearly snarl.

He actually has the nerve to roll his eyes. I just want to kill him sometimes.

"Like **what**?"

Ugh. He is so annoying! I just know he's going to make me do something desperate! And, you know what; I'm getting tired of sitting on T.J.

"Like **make**-_out_ with him, you _idiot_! Now go and I'll go home too!"

I have to give him an ultimatum. If I don't, he'll never leave. And if he doesn't leave, then I'm going to sleep here.

Vitto looks a little shocked that I know words like that. And T.J. looks confused. That's good, right?

"Where'd you learn words like that, huh, Ash?" He growls.

Jeez, what crawled up his a… and died? I mean, really.

"Let's see, you and Joey are older than me by _HOW_ many years exactly?" I retorted.

Okay, that's it, I have to do something desperate, or he won't leave.

Let's see what happens when I slide my top up a little bit. Hmm. Vitto's about twelve shades of purple and T.J.'s face is as red as a tomato.

And this is when they can see my stomach.

Ugh, Vitto's still not leaving. I REALLY don't want to kiss T.J. again. But, if I want to save his life, I might have to. Fortunately, Vitto seems to get the hint, and he leaves. Good thing I didn't pull my shirt up all the way

As soon as he's gone, I jump off T.J. Boy, am I embarrassed. That was really weird.

"Sorry, Teej," I mutter apologetically.

He's looking at me weirdly though.

"It's uh, okay, I guess," He replies, dazed.

I smile at him, throwing open the door. I have got to leave so I can go home and get some sleep tonight.

"I've gotta get going. See ya tomorrow, Teej," I whisper, just before I walk stealthily down his stairs and out of his house.

Ah, now here's my house. Now, which window's unlocked again?

Found it. Now all I have to do is walk up two sets of stairs to my room. And then I can sleep.

But of course, by the time I finally get into bed, the alarm clock rings.

Figures.

Loren ;

Joey is the older brother in this one. And when Spinelli means that he was best friends with T.J.'s big brother… Well, actually, T.J.'s big brother is only mentioned in the one episode where they decide to tear down Old Rusty, I'm pretty sure… It's either that or the Speedy the Hamster one… When they're talking about how old it was. And T.J. says something like, "It was here when my big brother went here." Anyways, so his big brother's really old.

Kudos to anyone who gets the dangerous lumber thing…lol…

Oh, and, por favor, please review. I heart me some reviews, and if I get me enough reviews, then I just might post the next chapter earlier (HINT, HINT).

Oh, and when Spinelli says that she lifted up her top, she means to like a little bit above her belly-button and not really further.

Anyways, rock on!


	4. Gretchen: Vested Investigations

Ooh, let's see who else likes T.J.! Okay, well, Spinelli actually said quite the contrary, but will she stick to that?

Yeah, she will. Until the bitter end and then some…

But don't worry, aside from the three (well, okay, more like two) girls fighting over T.J., there'll be more complications. It's kinda weird, this story…

For the most part, it switches between the three girl's POVs… And I can honestly say that I hate writing this POV the most… Argh. I'm used to Spinelli… And the other one's kinda fun and easier, but… Argh!

Anyways, so they kinda go together, you see… Because one picks up practically where the previous one left off… So, this one starts at school. Which means it'll take forever for a day to pass, like in a soap opera, but whatever.

I don't own Recess, the girl's POV, or T.J. Oh, there's a lot of references to episodes in this fic… Whatever…

Ah, another day has begun and I feel extraordinary. Okay, well, I don't exactly feel extraordinary. As a matter of fact, I was up rather late last night pondering certain issues. I believe that I covered them rather well, but my findings were unsatisfactory.

I was ruminating over my companions and analyzing them, of course, as I do once every week.

Generally I do this for a few minutes, but this time, for some reason, my mind had planned a more thorough, in-depth scrutiny of the characters that are featured prominently in my life.

My discoveries were rather unfortunate, for I was thinking and I realized that, well, I had been completely unaware of latent feelings I possess for one of my best friends. I understand that I should be glad to even be capable of possessing these feelings at all and that I should celebrate them rather than rue their existence. However, there are more circumstances involved in my little problem.

For example, our friendship would likely be ruined if I ever mentioned these emotions to him. You cannot find love, like, whatever this feeling is called, in fifth grade. It only results in mockery, embarrassment, and heartache, as demonstrated by Spinelli's crush on Johnny V. and Jeffrey's crush on me.

I know that there's no possible way I could maintain my sanity without him as a friend. It would be so awkward between us that all the others would see, and then I couldn't be friends with them either. They have more loyalty to him than me. After all, he's the glue that holds us all together.

Really, when you think about it, we do all belong in different groups. I should be a pale kid, a "geek". Spinelli should hang out with the criminals and bullies. Vince should be a jock. Gus would be with the younger kids, or maybe he'd be a pale kid like me. Mikey would hang out with Guru Kid or maybe some younger kids. T.J. would be, well, I don't really know where he'd be. Maybe he'd hang out with the Ashleys; perhaps he'd be King Bob's bodyguard. I'm glad we'll never know, to tell the truth.

I suppose opposites attract.

Not to mention that, aside from distressing myself with thoughts of losing all my friends if I told him, there's another person involved.

She likes him too.

Her mother said so, and I believe her now, after going over certain occurrences.

I also think, after debating it for a while, and replaying memories that I now wished I could delete from my memory repeatedly, that he likes her back.

A part of that thought breaks my heart, but of course, another part offers me large options. It gave me a most interesting flush of ideas that will both thrill me and hurt me.

Is it not ironic that even though we both have feelings for the same boy, yet I can be happy AND heartbroken at seeing them together?

Of course, I'll have to help with that. He's very clueless and she's rather closed off about her emotions. My utter lack of quixotic girlish fantasies perturbs me a little; when did I become so altruistic?

After all, one should be jovial when young, instead of resigned and disparaging.

Perhaps it is best that I should just sit here, knowing this knowledge that I do now, and ignore it, attempting to resume life as it was. Denial, however, isn't cathartic. I know exactly what to do. I will let nothing on, and do nothing unless it is asked of me.

But first, I suppose, I ought to talk to Spinelli.

Yes, there, okay?

I like Theodore Jerome Detweiler.

There! No convoluted words, no hints. There it is, the truth lying bare on the table.

Oh, goodness, I have to leave! School… And T.J. awaits.

I snatch my backpack, flinging it over my shoulder, and dashing outside. I simply cannot be late today. It's only 8:15.

Hey, there's Spinelli and the guys! Hmm, Spinelli looks very tired. T.J. too. I race up to them, panting.

"Hi, guys," I reply breathlessly.

Then I pivot to face Spinelli before they can even reply. She gives me a quizzical look.

"Spinelli, may we talk for a short period of time?" I ask politely.

Spinelli nods, yawning.

"Sure, Gretch, lay it on me," She mumbles, yawning yet again.

Here, in front of everyone? I look around, feeling extremely self-conscious. Hmm, I wonder why T.J. is giving Spinelli such a weird look.

This is incredibly weird because Spinelli's actually _blushing_.

It can't be because of the double entendre behind her words, can it? Ten and eleven are ages a little too young for comprehension of that, right?

They couldn't have…

Or could they?

After all, they are next-door-neighbors.

No…

You know, I just need to converse with Spinelli alone.

That will be best.

"Let's talk away from all these eyes, Spinelli," I respond, stoic.

As if I can let any of them hear this conversation. Yet, where can I go? There's Randall and the Ashleys to worry about, and they're everywhere.

I suppose that the Cheese Box will have to do then. I drag a befuddled Spinelli inside it. She looks rather pugnacious to tell the truth. Oh well.

"What'd ya hafta drag me in here for, Gretch?" Spinelli snarls.

Spinelli is definitely not a morning person, but today she seems to be even worse. It might be because she looks so exhausted.

"How long have you adored T.J.?" I question bluntly.

Spinelli's eyes are wide. Poor thing. She looks uncomfortable. Oh well. She's going to have to deal with this painful discussion just like me.

"**What're** you _talkin'_ about! I **don't** like T.J.!" Spinelli snaps, apparently shocked I even asked this.

Oh, come on… Seriously. D-e-n-i-a-l.

"_Right_, Spinelli. Oh, _come_ **on**. You _did_ kiss him, you know," I remark sarcastically.

Spinelli rolls her eyes. Uh oh, I'm getting her angry.

"Look, it coulda happened to _anyone_. Besides, that was a _long_ time ago **last** year!" Spinelli yells.

I'd better back up. This could become very unpleasant rather quickly.

"Then why did your own mother interject that you have an infatuation with him on Parent's Night?" I question, slightly afraid.

But, fortunately, Spinelli doesn't completely understand what I said. However, I think she got the gist of it.

"My ma thought I liked him 'cause he's my best friend, and so, ya know, I talk about him. You know parents, ya talk about a boy, they think ya like him. I don't like Teej," Spinelli explains, for once, somewhat calmly and rationally.

Wow. No violence. I'm extremely impressed. This is a rather stunning turnout, especially since she looks very tired and it's about 8:15 in the morning.

"Why're ya even askin' me this, Gretchen?" Spinelli inquires suspiciously.

Uh oh. I hadn't thought she'd ask why. What am I supposed to tell her? Maybe I can just use big words and bluff my way through it.

"Um, well, I mulled the situation over in my cranium for a while and resolved that I should unearth the nature of your perspective of T.J. because I ascertained at some time hovering in between today's dawn and yesterday's twilight that there were specific sentiments directed towards T.J. that could be interpreted in a less friendly manner, if perhaps, you catch my drift. I could no longer stand the endless pondering, and so I opted to question you about those sensations as soon as I was possibly able to do so, which happened to be now, in this Cheese Box, for privacy," I expatiated awkwardly.

Fortunately enough for me, Spinelli had no clue about what the heck I'd just said, and she didn't seem to want to. I felt a slight grin cross my face at the situation.

"Spinelli, you said something, and then T.J. gave you this look and you blushed. I was wondering why you blushed. Did something happen between you two?" I questioned, trying not to sound so desperate.

I can't believe it. Spinelli's looking away and not meeting my eyes. Something did happen!

"Nah, Gretch, nothing happened. Why would you think something had? And besides, I don't blush. I just had a sunburn, that's all," Spinelli explained in a rush.

I can't believe she's just lying to me like that. I have to find out what's going on. I'm not going to just let this go.

"If you say so, Spinelli."

She shoots me a weird look, but we leave anyways. What a long day this will be.

"So, why do you look so tired?" I ask, stupidly thinking that that's a safe topic.

Apparently it isn't, due to the way her eyes darken. She's scowling now, and for the first time I can see just how tired she actually is. It's rather frightening actually. I'm sort of afraid that in her grouchy state she's going to get annoyed by my inquisitiveness and hurt me.

However, Spinelli keeps her tired temper in check. She blinks several times before turning her bloodshot eyes up at me.

"Rough night. My brother Joey's back in town 'n' I hadta make sure that Vitto from gettin' put in the slammer too. Jus' as I was gettin' back inta bed, my stupid alarm rings," Spinelli mutters, already half asleep.

Oh brother. Did anyone get a good night's sleep, I wonder. But we walk to class nonetheless and it strikes me that something happened. Something she's not telling me. Maybe I ought to ask T.J.

But can I even talk to T.J.? I mean, after the things I unearthed within my own mind last night? I'm not sure.

Oh, come on, Gretchen, you can do this. You've talked to him many times before. This is just like all of those times.

Except I like him now.

This situation whomps.

Out of all the guys on the playground, why did it have to be him?

Vince, Mikey, Gus… I could deal with liking them. But T.J.? I'm doomed. How on earth am I supposed to concentrate in class now? Same way you always do, Brain.

The class passes by in a blur and soon it's Recess. I thought long and extensively about it, and I came to only one conclusion. I have to at least ask T.J. or I'll regret it.

Suddenly, I realize that everyone's leaving. If I don't put a move on, I'm not going to be able to talk to him.

So, naturally, I too speed out of the door, hoping to snatch him away from kickball for a minute.

Aha! There he is. Okay, now what are the others doing? Vince is trying to find a ball, Mikey's talking to Kurst the Worst, Gus is beating up Gellman, Spinelli is drawing in the sand… Yep, nothing unusual afoot.

"Um, Teej, can I, uh, talk to you for a minute?" I ask nervously.

Wow, I can't believe that I actually managed to express that in words. Maybe someday I'll tell him how I feel. Whoa!

Seriously, how imbalanced are my hormones? Too much estrogen flowing. But, you know, puberty is approaching.

His tired face is somewhat confused, but he nods anyways.

"Sure," He mumbles nonchalantly, and we walk over towards the stairs.

How do I put this exactly?

"T.J., I like to think that I am not blind, and, as I am not blind, I would like to know exactly what happened between you and Spinelli," I blurt.

Did I just say that? I think I did. What the heck am I thinking? Oh, that's right, I was not thinking. That sounds incredibly rude. Even to my prejudiced ears.

T.J. himself looks rather shocked, and, I should say, understandably so. He gapes at me for a minute, and I can't help thinking that it would feel really nice to have that stare directed at me under better circumstances.

Fortunately for me, he recovers fast.

"Why do you think anything happened?" He blurts, obviously avoiding my question.

I'm sick of this game. I want some straight, non-convoluted answers for once.

"Because you're dodging the subject. Now answer, Teej," I snap bluntly.

I didn't know I could be so harsh and cutting. My words are strangely cool and calculated. He looks taken aback himself. But that doesn't change the fact that he still needs to answer. I must be more tired than I thought.

"What do you mean by anything?" He asks, slightly teasingly.

However, I do not have any more patience left for this.

"T.J.!" I bellow, perhaps more loudly than I should have.

He sighs. Maybe he'll tell me now.

"Okay, it wasn't really anything. We just had a little bonding experience, and it was kind of weird," T.J. explains honestly, adjusting his baseball cap.

I love that baseball cap. It really brings out the blue in his eyes. Wait a minute, what am I thinking?

"What do you mean by bonding experience? Do you mean like a shared experience, a date, or something **physical**?" I question, a little too excited for my own good.

T.J. makes a face, punching me in the shoulder. Ouch.

"Gretch, are you feeling okay? Something physical? Ew," T.J. says, sounding slightly worried for my sanity, as I fear, am I.

Yet somehow, his words calm me. Goodness, I am losing my mind. I force a smile, turning to leave.

"Thanks for um, clearing that up for me," I mutter, not quite knowing what to say.

He nods, slightly puzzled, and I walk off. I have some thinking to do.

Loren ;

I must say, she gets less long-winded, more girly, and more understandable in her next chapter. Oh, and I was using a list of SAT words while writing this one… Points if you list all the SAT words I used…lol…

And it's funny, 'cause this fic has an adult twist… But it's kinda subtle… Like when Spinelli and her brothers almost swear… Fun stuff like that… And when Gretchen was all: "Why is Spinelli blushing?" But yeah…lol…


	5. Ashley: Upon Beating The Ugliest Model

Ah, the final girl. From now on, the chapters pretty much rotate from girl-to-girl-to-girl…

Lol… I like writing Spinelli's chapters the best. They're the most fun. giggles Her next chapter… It's a good one… Poor unlucky girl, that one. You know, in between beating people up, hiding, running from the law, and other stuff… lol… She gets all of the "action" chapters. As in, hers are constantly moving… So Gretchen and other girl (see below) think a lot more. Lol… Though Spinelli's chapters are longer…

Anyways, here!

Spin-Ugly is looking like so much more ugly today. It's like really weird. I mean, it's not like I'm supposed to like, be looking over there or anything, but… Well, like okay, because you forced it out of me… I was looking and T.J. and she like happened to be right next to him, because she's like always right next to him, and do you like have any idea how annoying that is?

I like hate her so much. It's like not even funny. I mean, really!

What on Earth can a guy like him see in a girl like her? Like, seriously!

Anyways, so Spin-Ugly's got these huge bags under her eyes, and, I mean, it's not like her hair usually looks like, that awesome, but today it looks like twenty times worse than, like, usual. I mean, like half of it isn't even in her pigtails. And it's icky and frizzy and messy, and, like, I never knew that she had like, bangs! Anyways, it's not like her clothes are wrinkled, but it looks like she put her clothes on in the dark, or kind of like when my big sister Cindy comes home from one of those college parties. Okay, except Cindy's hair is like way messy and her lipstick's totally smeared, and her clothes are on the wrong way and wrinkled. I wonder what Cindy like does at those parties anyways.

Oh, well. She'll like, tell me later. So Spin-Ugly's not wearing those like, horrible tights today, which is like actually really a step up, but her boots like aren't tied and it's like totally a wonder that she's like not tripping all over those huge feet of hers. So, yeah, she's still like a fashion reject, but, you know, red totally does look like great on her, and so do those like bangs. I mean, I'd like never admit it, but she could be like really pretty if she gave it some effort… Like us. I mean, I'd so kill for her cheekbones.

Hmm, I think we should totally like kidnap her and give her a make-over. She looks like so tired today that she wouldn't be able to like, fight back.

Oh, no, wait, that totally wouldn't work. It'd like only make T.J. like her more. Okay, so I don't like totally know for sure if he's like totally into her, but, it's kind of obvious.

I mean, what does Spin-Ugly have that I don't, huh? I mean, like, as a matter of fact, I totally have more style, money, looks… I have like way more of everything than she does.

Well, like what am I supposed to do now? I mean, I totally doubt that even if he did like-me-like-me that we could go out. My friends would like probably think that he's a loser or something. And then they'd like, make fun of me for liking him.

Which would not be fun at all. But maybe I could, oh, I don't know, like, flirt with him or something. Like when Spin-Ugly's back is turned.

Wait a second, that's it! That is so totally my excuse. I can like tell the other girls that I'm like stealing him away from her. And that I'm like making him over into like, the perfect boyfriend. Yeah, that'll like, totally work. Like definitely.

Now, how exactly am I like, going to put this plan into like, action?

Well, let's see, he's like all alone right now. I'd like better go up to him before someone else like gets to him. But no running. I am, after all, an Ashley, and we have, like, a certain level of respect. Besides, I'm wearing like the tallest heels ever. I'd so trip.

"Hi, T.J.!" I call over to him flirtatiously.

Of course, it's not like he knows that I'm being like, flirtatious. But whatever. I just need to like widen my perfect smile a little. Good thing I wore the pink lip-gloss today. The red looks like so bad on me.

Okay, he's like turning to me. That's like good. He's looking at me! Ha, like, take that Spin-Ugly!

But I really don't like that suspicious look in his, like, eyes. Why doesn't he, like, trust me?

"Oh, hey, Ashley A. Um, is something wrong? Did Spinelli trash your clubhouse again, because, you know, I've talked to her about that, and she promised that…" T.J. begins, rather nervously.

Ugh. He like, mentioned Spin-Ugly. I'd so better cut him off before he like, starts waxing on about her like, beauty.

"No, actually, T.J., um, I like just wanted to uh… Do you want to like maybe come over to my house after school, and, uh, like work on our, um, like homework… I'm like not too good at, uh, history, um, you know, and like, aren't you, um, getting like an A in it? So, um, yeah. There's like a pool, and a, um, jungle gym, and, like, a big screen TV, and we, uh, have, um, like tapes of Beanie McChimp, which you're like into, um, right?" I ask quickly.

OMG! Did I just like say that? I sound like an idiot. Like a total idiot! Ashleys so do not sound like idiots! And I just did! Ugh, I so need to like take a cleansing bath and totally wash this day off of me.

Wait, like what happens if he, like, rejects me? Ashleys do not, like, get rejected. Or, like, for that matter, this afraid. I am like an Ashley. We are supposed to be like fearless. I mean, like even Spinelli's fearless. Actually, she's like more fearless than me.

Anyways, he looks, like, well, understandably, more than like a little shocked. I can like, kind of understand why. I think he's like going to answer now, because his mouth's like opening and all.

"Um, okay, sure. I'll come over. Uh, thanks," T.J. says, sounding somewhat astounded.

He said yes? He said yes! This is like so great! I could seriously squeal like right now forever.

"Okay, great. I'll like, see you later. Oh, and, um, like don't tell your friends, okay?" I giggle, waving at him and moving away.

Wait, I like giggled? I must like really like T.J. Oh brother.

Well, I mean, he is like coming over after school. That's like great.

But, well, I guess I can't like tell the girls about this. This is like going to be way weird. I tell them like everything.

Oh well. I guess there are some things, that, like, they don't need to know.

Loren ;

Okay, so both Gretchen and Ashley A. like T.J. And Ashley A. just asked him out. Spinelli swears she doesn't like him, but is that really the case?

Note that both Gretchen and Ashley A. both think T.J. likes Spinelli. However, he swore that there was nothing going on between them to Gretchen and he agreed to go to Ashley A.'s house for… homework. Yeah, right.

Ashley A.'s schemin' away. And nervous… I hope I didn't use too many likes and totallys and sos and reallys… I tried. She only says them like once per sentence a lot of the time. Oh, and when she says OMG, she just means OMG. 'Cause she's such an intellectual… I mean, she's not stupid, 'cause hello, she's the leader of the Ashleys, so she can't really be dumb, and besides, isn't she the one who thinks up the evil plans? She's just a slightly shallow semi-airhead.

Anyways…

In the next chapter: A worn-out Spinelli struggles through a not-so-typical school-day. She finds out some things, but fails to realize the deeper significance behind them while rushing about the school and dodging Finster.


	6. Spinelli: One Annoyance After Another

I'm gonna start out by saying that I fricking love this chapter. I think I like it even better than the last Spinelli chapter. I actually started planning out chapters for this fic. It's fun, really. Anyways, poor unlucky Spinelli. Same day as the other chapters. Note: Remember that T.J. was first ambushed by Gretchen, and then Ashley A. came up to him and, well, pretty much asked him out.

Poor Spinelli's still tired, and she hasn't had anything to eat all day. Lunch is after Recess… 'Cause I say so.

Anyways, Miss Grotke got promoted up to fifth grade because she loved them so much. Gus isn't in their class. Bummer. Ashley A. (she is the ONLY Ashley in their class), Hustler Kid, Upside-Down Girl, Gordie, Phil, Swinger Girl, (I can't think of many kids who actually have names… I was watching Recess last night at like twelve-thirty, and I realized that the only people in their class I recognized were Ashley Q., Gordie, and Phil (the guy who dresses like a Boy Scout)… Then there's that redheaded girl with the curly hair who was the one dancing with T.J. when he… lol… got that black eye, and a bunch of other extras… goes to find out if any of them have names)… Actually, like none of the characters have names… They're more like something in front of Kid or Girl. Hustler Kid (though he at least has a name), Swinger Girl, Upside-Down Girl, Guru Kid (I thought his name was like Jimmy or something), Cornchip Girl (Theresa), Crying Kid…

Okay, so their class is… Gordie, Phil, Spinelli, T.J., Ashley A., Gretchen, Vince, Mikey, Hustler Kid (who is apparently in their fourth grade class… Go figure) a.k.a. Francis, red-headed/brunette girl with pigtails who wears red and sits next to Vince, girl with wavy red hair who looks kinda like T.J.'s girl clone, Swinger Girl, Upside-Down Girl, Butch, Jeffrey, Knarf a.k.a. Frank (the Pale Kids never seem to go to class…)… And, uh, some other people… Anyways, on with the show!

Ugh. I was trying to draw in the dirt with a stick like I do when I'm bored and not kicking something, right? Because Gretchen was asking me all these stupid questions and lousy Vince can't find a frigging kickball. And, you know, T.J.'s off doing who-knows-what…

Anyways, so Randall the Worm comes up to me and starts mouthing off about some crap. Still is, actually. I gotta do something about this.

I mean, the stupid little weasel actually thinks he can talk to me? Jeez, does the boy have a frigging brain cell in his skull? No, of course not.

Okay, that's it! He's getting it. Now, darn it, how many detentions do I have this week already? Oh, wait a second, why do I care? I'm gonna beat the crap out of him anyways.

So I pick him up, dangling him off the ground (with one hand, nonetheless… Yeah, I rock!). Now he's got this weird look on his face and he's moving his head closer to mine.

He BETTER not be trying to kiss me.

He's still moving closer.

Whomping Bobula! That's just… Ew!

I think I'm scarred for life. I'm gonna have nightmares about this, I can tell.

Well, I said I'd beat the living daylights outta the next guy who tried.

This is gonna be fun.

I let my right fist fly and it hits him right in the kisser. Ha! Revenge is sweet.

I oughtta name my fist though… Hmm.

And another punch, and another. I wonder why my fist doesn't hurt. Oh well. Ah, sweet, I gave him a black eye! This is about as much fun as the time he got a swirly. No, wait, that was awesome. Really.

Jeez, is he supposed to bleed this much? Ah, he looks about done.

My fist is getting tired anyways.

So I drop Randall, a.k.a. The Loser Who Tried to Kiss Me While I Was Holding Him in the Air. Nah, that's too long. I mean, why'd he even think that he could kiss me, huh?

I bet it's 'cause I'm the only girl on the playground who has kissed someone. Darn those whomping straws. Bad luck, man, bad luck.

Wait, what am I doing here with the evidence. He's crawling away to get Finster. I gotta go to the bathroom and clean my hand off and find an alibi. Now.

So, I'm running to the bathroom, when I run into Ashley A. gloating and looking at a school picture of someone who looks familiar. Of course, being me, I skid to a stop waay too late and she falls down too. Great, I'm gonna be late. And Finster's gonna catch me.

Stupid Powderpuff! Ugh.

"Like, watch where you're going, like, Spinelli!" Ashley A. sneers.

I do not have time for this crap with her. Matter of fact, I could so easily sock her one right now.

It would be, I'm like so sure, delightful.

"Oh, cram it, Powderpuff. I've got business to attend to!" I snap at her, not in the mood for her whiny behavior.

Ugh. Why is she smirking at me? Huh? Jeez, this is worse than Gretchen's Twenty Questions, I swear!

"Oh, like, Spin-Ugly, what business would that, like, be? I mean, like, there's like no amount of time in that bathroom that could make you look, like, pretty," Ashley A. retorts harshly.

Harsh. I knew there was a reason I hated her more than the other Ashleys…

"What, Ashley, do you want the blood I'm washing off my hands to be yours?" I rejoin angrily.

Ashley A. scoffs and rolls her eyes. Snooty priss. Grr, I hate her so much.

"I don't have like, the time for like fashion rejects like yourself. Besides, you're like making me like late for lunch. I'm outtie," Ashley A. says snootily.

I hate her. I hate her. I frigging hate her. So she stalks off in those stupid, too-tall shoes, which I still don't get how she can walk in. They sound so annoying against the hall tiles. Seriously, does that stick hurt? I mean… How can she walk?

Well, at least the hallway's clear.

Hey, wait a second!

Except for that thing on the floor!

What is it?

Holy cow.

That's a picture of T.J.

Whoa.

Hey, wait, Ashley A. was holding a picture when I ran into her! She must've dropped it.

But why would Ashley A. have a picture of T.J.?

I mean, it's not like we get along with The Ashleys. He's my best friend, so that's kind of out of the question, obviously.

So why does she have a picture of T.J.?

And why was she staring at it?

And why is this bothering me so much?

Well, duh, because it's Ashley A.

We're going to have to have a little "talk" about this here picture. A talk which may or may not involve talking.

But as for the photo… Well, I can't just leave it here. Okay, so I pick up the picture and shove it in my jacket. Oh, crap, why am I not washing my hands?

I can think about stupid Ashley A. and the stupid picture anytime. But I need to wash my hands now.

I make a mad dash towards the bathroom, scrambling inside and pressing hard on the soap dispenser. I shove my hands under it, jumping up on my tiptoes to peer out the window. I could recognize that yellow polka-dotted dress anywhere. She's coming.

Well, the blood's coming off fast. That's good. My hands are still kinda red though. Oh well. I don't have much time.

Frantically, I pull at the paper towel dispenser, sloppily drying my hands and throwing the wad in the trash. I dash out of the door, glancing briefly down at my watch. I'm going to be late for lunch and then she'll bust me for not having a hall pass.

I've got to hustle.

Humming under my breath I dash into the lunchroom, barreling out of the way of an angry Upside-Down Girl.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Spinelli!"

I shake a fist at her.

"Watch yourself, Upside-Down Girl! You're talking to Spinelli here!"

Of course, then I crash into Hustler Kid. Ugh. I think I'm getting bruises. Man, he's sure on his feet fast.

"Spinelli, you really oughtta watch where you're going," He says, offering me a hand.

I don't want to get up, really I don't. I'm tired from all the running I've done today. And my arm strength's pretty much sapped from beating the crap outta Randall. I just want to sit here on the floor, lie down, and go to sleep. But, as I can't do that, and need food as well as sleep to live, I take his hand (which is really strange) and let him pull me up. Besides, he's way taller than me anyways.

I'm really not in the mood for this, but oh frickin' well.

"Thanks, Hustler Kid," I mutter, too tired to be angry.

Okay, he's looking at me funny.

"Please, call me Francis," He replies suavely, kissing my hand.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I must be really freaking out of it because he just kissed my hand. That's it, I need some caffeine. I jerk my hand from his grip, tiredly waving him off.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, whatever, _Francis_… Got some soda?" I ask as quickly as I can muster in my half-asleep state.

He smiles at me… Creepy. If I felt better, I'd run or hit him or something. But I don't, so as long as he doesn't pull a Randall, I'll be fine. Hopefully.

"For a pretty girl such as yourself, always…" He answers, pulling a Coke from his trench coat and throwing it at me.

I barely manage to catch it, but nod my thanks, turning away from him and opening it. I've conveniently decided to ignore the fact that he called me a pretty girl.

Ah, this has to be the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Even though it's bitter. But it has caffeine, and caffeine brings clarity, thank God.

Jeez, does Hustler Kid like me or something? Great, just what I need… Speaking of which, where are Teej and The Gang? Uh oh, Finster just walked in! I have to find them.

Dang it, where are they?

"Spinelli, over here!"

Oh, bless Gretchen. I nervously glance both ways before running over to the table and plopping down in between Mikey and T.J. Okay, so there's not much room, and, yeah, I'm practically sitting on T.J.'s lap… Wait, ew!

No, wait, I want to be hidden! Okay, well, I guess I'd better jump under the table. Finster's coming, after all. I can see her big fat feet with their stupid bunions. Yuck!

And there's her screechy voice now.

"Have any of you seen Spinelli?" She squalks.

Good thing Randall's not with her. My name holds a certain fear with it. Good stuff. Unfortunately, it's cold down here, and there's not much room, and, man, someone's feet smell really, really, really bad!

"What crime did she commit this time, Miss Finster, just so we know what we're dealing with?" Gretchen asks smartly.

That won't work in my favor.

"Assault and Battery."

Yuck. She's so gonna put me in juvie someday.

"Nope, we haven't seen her. She might be in the nurse's office though… Or the bathroom. You know, cleaning up," Vince says smoothly.

I can feel her head nodding from here.

"Okay, thanks, kid," She grumbles, and her big fat heels click away.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, T.J.'s head grins down at me.

"Sheesh, Teej, you're makin' me have a heart-attack!" I hiss.

If it's possible, his grin widens.

"Coast's clear, Spin."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Okay, I'm coming up. But for the love of criminy, move your feet," I snap bossily, "And while you're at it, scoot over. I don't want to have to practically sit on your lap again!"

Oh, wow. He actually moved. Ugh, but it's still a tight fit to get up. Ah, finally at my rightful place at the table. Fresh air. Ah…

"So, Spinelli, what'd you do? Finster looked pretty mad," Gus says innocently.

He doesn't know the half of it.

"Oh, I kinda beat up Randall," I mumble, sipping my coke.

Yet somehow the reminders of just how I got that drink return. Ugh. I need to repress those memories. Repress, repress, repress…

T.J. spits out his milk, which is really gross.

"You what? Come on, Spin, you know you can't touch him," T.J. says, shocked, shaking his head.

Not my fault. Lousy Loser… Stupid… Grr. I want to punch him all over again. Really, I do.

"He brought it on himself. He had to be taught a lesson," I mutter vehemently.

Gretchen frowns across the table at me. She's been acting weird all day.

"What'd he do, Spinelli?"

I shudder just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, I'd rather not think about it. Let's just pretend it didn't happen.

"More like what he _tried_ to do, Gretch, and trust me, I don't want to talk about it," I respond immediately, shivering.

T.J. and the others give me a look, but I really don't want to think about it.

"Well, it can't be that bad… What you did to Randall," Says Mikey, ever the optimist.

I shake my head, drinking the soda.

"Oh, no. It's bad. **Real** bad," I grumble despondently.

The odd looks abound. Fun stuff.

Okay, that's it, I need some sleep. My eyes are fluttering open and closed.

"Spin, hey, Spin, are you okay?"

A hand comes down on my shoulder, and suddenly, I'm wide awake. And T.J.'s like half a foot away. Jeez! I jump like a foot in the air.

"I'm just… tired, is all," I yawn tiredly.

"Your eyes closed," He states bluntly.

Jerk. Grr. He's annoying my tired brain. I might just punch him if this keeps up.

"You know perfectly well just _why_ I'm tired, so stop hasslin' me about it," I snap impatiently.

Should I leave the table? Heck yeah. Maybe I'll go ask Hustler Kid for some food. He'd give it to me, for sure. Yeah, I think I'll go do that. I mean, the last thing I need is to pass out from hunger… I mean, I've already got the exhaustion thing going for me.

"Hey, Spin, wait up!"

Man, I have got to walk faster. Now where the heck is he? Stupid hustling, jacket-wearing… Hustler! Ugh!

Oh, great, Finster's over there. I gotta get out of here.

"What part of wait up don't you understand?"

When will T.J. learn to just let me be?

"Don't follow me, Teej! Go back to lunch!"

"I won't!"

Man, I'm going to have to run faster.

And ditch T.J.

And avoid Miss Finster.

And eat something.

And get the heck outta here.

Jeez, I'm a busy girl.

The trouble with this school is that there's nowhere to run. There's the gym, the cafeteria, the classrooms, the hallway, the office, and the playground. That's it.

"Sheesh, slow down!"

I roll my eyes, trying to run faster.

"Shut up!"

I'm tired. So tired. And hungry.

And I need to get away. Desperately.

"Spin, come on, you're tired!"

I roll my eyes again, not daring to look back. I'm going out to the playground. There are places there where he could never find me.

"And so are you, so shove it!"

Where to hide? The Cheese Box? Old Rusty? Where to hide?

But I'm tired and so he catches up. Darn it. Foiled again.

Oh, well, I guess I do need some air, after all. I turn around, stopping. Why is it so blurry?

"Finally! She stops!"

I roll my eyes, but this really doesn't help my vision problem.

"Teej, please, I'm…"

And then, I'm falling, and all I can see is darkness. This is definitely not good.

Loren ;

Okay, let's review. Spinelli beat up Randall because he tried to kiss her (and no one wants to kiss a worm… ugh), found Ashley A.'s picture of T.J., got hit on by Hustler Kid, hid/ran from Finster, and then culminated the day by fainting.

Fun stuff.


	7. Gretchen: I Think I Care Too Much

Poor Gretchen. She's going through something. Poor Dear. She's kinda bitter about this whole thing. Not as many big words this chapter…

Where's T.J.? He failed to arrive back at lunch. He just raced after Spinelli, as usual. Now, we're doing mathematics, and he's still not in his desk. I wonder what could be wrong.

After all, Spinelli is also suspiciously absent. Though she was acting rather strange at lunch, but, then again, Spinelli is rarely ever what most people would consider normal. No, wait, scratch that, she's just not normal, period.

"Ms. Grotke?" I asked, warily raising my hand.

Ms. Grotke twisted away from the chalkboard, smiling brilliantly at me.

"Do you know where T.J. and Spinelli may be? They failed to, um, come back… When they left, um, during lunch," I ask, heart suddenly jumping into my throat.

What if something happened to Spinelli? Or worse, T.J.? Wait, what am I doing, deliberately wishing malice on one of my friends?

Maybe I have taken this whole like-liking-T.J.-thing to heart after all.

However, I really hope that that's not it.

"Oh, Gretchen, they're at the nurse's office. I'm sure T.J. will tell you all about it later… As a matter of fact, Gretchen, since you're so far ahead in the current subject, why don't you go down there and see for yourself?" Ms. Grotke suggests supportively.

How did she know I wanted to go down and see… them? I got the most horrible feeling of butterflies in my stomach when she said that… they… were at the nurse's office. I mean, what are they both doing there?

Sure, they both appeared somewhat exhausted, Spinelli especially… And Spinelli didn't consume much except for that Coke at lunch. T.J. was kind of anxious too, now that I think about it. Well, Spinelli gets into fights often enough, but she rarely ever gets injured.

I wonder, did she and T.J. get in a fight?

I doubt I could forgive her if she did.

Hey, wait a second… I doubt I could forgive her? What on Earth am I saying?

Spinelli's one of my best friends. She's probably my best friend… Uh, after T.J. of course. And what am I saying? T.J. and Spinelli wouldn't fight to hurt each other. They get along like cake. Wait a second… Like cake? I believe this whole liking-T.J.-thing is rotting my brain.

I think I'd better get out of here before I loose all semblances of possessing a functioning brain. Now I have only to pack up my things and to thank Ms. Grotke.

Okay, done with the former, now on to the latter.

"Thank you, Miss Grotke," I mutter half-heartedly, grabbing my backpack and moving to leave.

"Oh, my pleasure, Gretchen… And now, class, back to Quantum Physics…" Ms. Grotke says distractedly.

I bet she's glad to have me out of class. I've been kind of snappy and, well, rude about my constant corrections today. At least I'm finally out of there, though.

Ah, there's the nurse's office. Let's just open the door a little and listen in, shall we?

How odd, there's T.J.

And he's standing there, holding Spinelli's hand. Wait, what happened to Spinelli? And why's he holding her hand. Perhaps I ought to listen in, then.

"Well, Spinelli, I don't really know how to feel about this thing, but she says you can hear me, so go figure. I know you're not going to be happy to hear this, but you fainted. The nurse said it was a combination of mental stress, along with hunger, and uh, fatigue. I'm really worried about you… And, uh, so is everyone else. Anyways, she said you'll wake up soon. Um, I wanted to tell you something, Spin. It's kinda hard to do, but, well, I guess I gotta risk it. 'Sides, you most likely won't remember any of this anyways. Okay, well, lately I've been thinking a lot about… things… and well, I think I…"

I can't take any more of this.

He's going to tell her he likes her. I can't watch that. It hurts me just to think about it.

Which is why I'm halfway down the hallway, crying. Why am I crying, though? This is stupid. Nothing good has come out of me like-liking T.J.

But he likes her, she likes him, and he doesn't like me in that way. I've just got to accept that.

But why does it have to be so hard? Why does it have to hurt me so much?

I'm crying over T.J. Maybe I have deeper feelings for him than I thought. Or maybe it's just hormones. I don't even care about that though, and I'm still crying. I don't enjoy being a blubbering fool. Oh, great, and as if to ruin my already bad exit, there's Vince.

Well, this has certainly been an interesting day, and not in a good way.

Vince is stopping now. He looks concerned. But I don't want Vince to be concerned about me. I want T.J. to be concerned about me. But T.J.'s tied up and bound to Spinelli for eternity. How poetically pathetic of me.

When did Vince get so close? I think he's grown a little too.

These idle thoughts only distract me for a minute. Sort of like school, really. But I try and focus on school, and I'm trying to avoid thinking about T.J.

"Gretch, what's wrong?" Vince questions, worrying, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I blink, rubbing at my still-dewy eyes, looking down at his hand. Why is it on my shoulder? Honestly, what am I supposed to tell him?

The truth? That I was out there sobbing over a possible, and, really, quite likely romantic relationship between Spinelli and T.J. even though I barely knew why myself? Utterly humiliating. This is why you don't cry at school.

"Oh, just hearing a-about T-T-T-T.J. an… an… and S-spin-nelli," I stuttered, giving into a fresh new wave of tears at the difficult words I had just said aloud.

Vince shoots me a curious and almost unbelieving look. He's got a right to be suspicious. After all, I **am** lying to him. I stuttered a lot in that last sentence too, and I never stutter. However, fortunately enough for me, the male confusion at the sight of a female crying seems to take control.

"Gretch, babe, they're fine," Vince says in his typical smooth tone, which this time seems to take on a reassuring undertone, as he envelops me in a warm, strong hug.

When was the last time someone hugged me? It's definitely been too long, but this feels so nice.

T.J. who?

I break apart from Vince, smiling at him widely. He looks confused.

"So you're okay now?" He asks, a hint of annoying incredulousness in his tone.

At the moment, however, I don't care. He's finally gotten my mind off T.J. for the first time all day. Obviously, my wide grin answers his question.

"Oh, yeah, I'm great now. Thanks, you really helped me a lot, Vince. Come on, let's go to Kelso's. I'm paying," I offer cheerfully.

He beams at me, a mischievous look on his face. He proffers me his elbow absurdly, which I then accept as we begin to walk out of the school.

"Lady, you said the magic words. Besides, school was getting dull anyways. I could only handle listening to Miss Grotke rattle on about The Industrial Revolution for so long…" Vince replies enthusiastically, shuddering at the mention of The Industrial Revolution.

The things we learn about in that class never cease to amaze me.

I nod sympathetically, hoping that Finster doesn't catch us. Right now, I'm just clinging unto the hope that I can forget for a while.

Loren ;

In case you were wondering, Gretchen didn't notice when Vince called her babe. Which is why she said nothing about that… Hmm, does Vince like Gretchen? And what is _Gretchen_ doing skipping class? Man, she must really like T.J., no?


	8. Ashley: Historic Dates of Battles Won

Ah, Ashley A.'s POV. This is also the last chapter that I have completely finished… I'm working on Spinelli's next one. Lol… It's a riot. Or, well, it's gonna be. I'll prolly give spoilers at the end of the chapter.

Oh, and to answer your question, frigginpixiedust, I have attempted a story of my own… Many of them, actually. Key word being attempted. I dunno… I'm not so good at making up characters… I always wind up blending in elements of other shows even when I'm not trying to… I'm really a lot better with plots.

I only post like a fourth of what I've written… Firstly because I haven't finished any of it, and secondly because the rest is mostly crappy one-parters… Anyways, I've tried writing a book… I wrote scripts for like three different T.V. shows… One of which has an entire first season (Which is really impressive for me…) Hmm… What else have I done? Oh, yeah, I thought up names for soap opera characters… lol… Let's see… Their names were: Tristan Taylor, Royce Taylor, Lila Smith-Davis-Taylor, Hateya Davis, Clair Davis, Hunter Green, Varden Green, Haley Strong-Green, Bridge Strong, Lee Strong, Evanescence Strong, Lucian DuMaurier, Iris DuMaurier, Sara DuMaurier, Winter Springsteen, Marie Springsteen, Katya Ivanovna, Farewell Heller, Luna Valdez, Gary Kingsley, Antonio Rodriguez, and George Browning… But that's highly off-topic and I doubt anyone cares…

I guess I had to do something to lighten the vapidness of Ashley A. …lol…

Ah, the big date approaches…

Okay, so T.J.'s like coming over soon. His mom's like driving him here, and I totally made sure that Mom, Dad, Brittany, Tyler, and Cindy are like all gone. Okay, so I like, maybe, told a few lies, but I just like want everything to be totally perfect for my first date with T.J. I have like no idea why it's such a big deal, but it is. I mean, I've like crushed on other guys like, before, and T.J. isn't really, like, no offense to him because I like him a lot and all, but he's like not as good-looking as like some of the other guys I've dated, but, like whatever.

Okay, so I like made sure not to set up any candles because those will like definitely freak him out. And I've totally got snacks and some, like, other things. But, for like, seriously, the first time in like, my entire life, I have like, no idea what to wear.

I mean, should I dress casual, comfortable, showy, or like what? I have no idea what to do. I'm like totally having a fashion emergency over him. I must really, really, really like him.

Okay, come on, Ashley, let's think, like okay? Okay, I can like put on my pink bikini, like, just in case, and then wear the white capris with the pink spaghetti-strap top with the ribbons. Oh, and like, my best pair of pink designer tennis shoes with the tiny rhinestones in them. Should I like put my hair in a ponytail? I like never wear it up, after all.

Nah, I should just curl it like a little more and find my pink lip-gloss. That'll like totally work. I just really hope that he likes my outfit. But, like, who am I kidding? He's a boy. Boys like have _no_ fashion taste, **period**.

Ooh, like there he is now! Eee! I'm like so excited! I've like, got to go out and greet him like a proper hostess would.

"Hi, like T.J.! It's totally great that you're like here! Uh, um, like, what are you waiting out there for? Come on in!" I chatter on cheerfully.

Weird. T.J. looks kind of nervous. Where should we go? Oh, I know! We should like, so totally go to the yellow sitting room. It goes great with my outfit.

"Well, um, like, uh, follow me, T.J. It's like, really nice to see you. Anyways, so, uh, what exactly are we doing in Social Studies again? I, like, wasn't paying attention today, in, uh, class," I ramble nervously.

I must sound like a total idiot, which he probably thinks I am, like, already. I know that I like, may not be the shiniest nail polish in the bottle, but I am like, not stupid, okay! No matter what that like, horrible Spin-Ugly says.

Oh, he's smiling that like, totally dreamy smile of his. I like totally wish that I got to see it more. Seriously. I could like, die happy because he's smiling at me. I _so_ want to sigh.

"To tell you the truth, Ashley A, I wasn't there during Social Studies today… I was kind of busy… But I asked Gretchen, and she told me. We're learning about The Industrial Revolution," He explains calmly, in that oh-so-smooth voice of his.

Oh, yeah, I like, remember now. Eli Whitney totally sucks.

"Yeah, like, with that Eli Whitney guy who invented the something-or-other…"

T.J.'s nodding. Wow, he like agrees with me.

"It's called the Cotton… And then some kind of drink I'm never supposed to go near," T.J. mutters, confused.

Oh, he's like so dreamy when he's confused! I clear my throat, gesturing towards the snacks that I like, painstakingly set out. I got his favorites… The very best Yahoo soda, Wingerdingers, and Beanie McGum. I just, like, really, really, really hope he likes them.

I nod, smiling, because, like, I don't know what to say.

"Well, I like, guess we should, like, get started, huh?" I giggle.

T.J. forces a chuckle, and even though it's fake, it's still one of the best sounds I've ever heard. He sits down and grabs some food, opening his book. Oh, he looks so cute when he's trying to study!

"The year was seventeen-seventy-six, and things in America were just starting to heat up. That summer, the Continental Congress had drafted and mailed The Declaration of Independence, and the war was starting to speed up, as the British soon realized that the colonists were serious. However, our founding fathers still had many factors against them. For example, only one out of every three colonists considered themselves a "patriot" or supporter of America. For another, even among this band, the members had separate beliefs about what to do about their unfair treatment. Some offered to give…" T.J. began to read aloud.

Oh, listen to his oh-so-sexy reading voice! I could just sigh right now. Okay, so maybe I like did.

"Is something wrong, Ashley A?"

Ooh, he sounds so concerned. And for, like, me! Ha! Take that Spin-Ugly! You may have like, won the pageant, but I'm like, so getting his heart…

Hey, wait a second, that's so not about The Industrial Revolution.

"Why were you like reading about The American Revolution, T.J.?" I ask, fighting to keep the like, amusement, from my tone.

His face is like so red. He's actually, like, blushing! And he looks so, so, so cute doing it.

Aww. It like totally melts my icy heart.

"Oh, oops," T.J. says, sounding a little flustered.

Our eyes meet and my hand covers his. Yeah, I know; I like totally can't believe that I was like, that brave either! Of course, he like just looked down, so I'm like, kind of scared that he'll like hate me, but he doesn't! He like, didn't even pull away!

I mean, yeah, so he's like still reading and all. And he's like, not looking at me. But he's still like holding my hand!

And to think, I actually thought he totally like-liked Spinelli earlier. Ha! But does T.J. like, like me?

Loren ;

Oh, I don't own Eli Whitney. Lol… I don't even think we've studied the Industrial Revolution…

Oh, by the way, the stuff about the American Revolution's true… All of it… I think.

Hm, does T.J. like Spinelli? Or does he like Ashley A.? Hmm… Things to ponder…

Anyways, a teaser for the next chapter: Mushy Shakespeare stories, King Freddy, and some topics that Fifth Graders don't even want to hear about, much less talk about…


End file.
